


Dulce et Decorum Est

by suzuki_cantor



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, je suis prest, s2e09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 05:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzuki_cantor/pseuds/suzuki_cantor
Summary: Brief extension of the scene from "Je Suis Prest" (season 2 episode 9) where Claire has a WW2 flashback and collapses, from Jamie's POV.





	Dulce et Decorum Est

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Outlander fanfiction, and my very first time posting on Archive of Our Own! I'm looking forward to meeting people from the fandom. Please leave comments, and enjoy!

Jamie had noticed that Claire was struggling—one minute she’d be all right, and the next, she’d turn quiet and unresponsive; it simply wasn’t like her. Murtagh had noticed it, too. But neither of the men could figure out what was wrong with the poor woman, and between training the new recruits and dealing with Dougal’s nonsense, there simply wasn’t enough time to piece together the full story. Jamie kept an eye on her, and hoped she’d come out of it before the men marched to join Prince Charles’ army. It was all he could think to do.

It was an overcast day, gray and crisp, when she finally broke down. Jamie noticed her walking oddly as he led the men in their drills. She hurried past them, gripping her basket tightly, and every time a gun went off, she flinched, clearly disturbed by the noise. After a few moments, she dropped her basket and staggered over to a nearby wagon with her hand pressed against her stomach. Jamie watched with growing concern. When she collapsed to the ground, his heart leapt up into his throat, and he felt a sudden urge to abandon the entire war to go and care for her. “Keep going!” he ordered the men, already heading in Claire's direction, fearing the worst.

Claire was on her side, curled up in the dirt with her hands pressed over her ears. Jamie felt rather ill, seeing her in distress, but at the very least, she didn’t appear to be injured—he crouched down beside her. “Claire,” he said.

No response. 

“Lass, are you all right?” He reached out, wanting very much to touch her. “D’ye need to go back to the house, to rest?”

Still nothing. She was trembling visibly; Jamie wondered what could’ve frightened her so. But he also had an odd feeling that he knew. He’d seen similar things happen to men in the aftermath of a battle, this shaking and gasping for air. He’d felt a similar panic himself on more than one occasion; in France, for example, whenever he woke from a nightmare of Black Jack Randall, he’d find himself shaking and sweating, wanting to disappear. Claire was more than just frightened—she was deeply distressed. And he knew he could only do so much to ease her anxiety.

“ _Claire_.” Jamie reached out to touch her shoulder. That did get a reaction from her—she opened her eyes and looked up at him, clearly a bit confused. She looked like wasn’t sure where she was. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief and carefully helped her sit up, guiding her hands away from her ears and pulling her close to his chest. She was trembling so violently—he felt a deep, primal urge to hold her and protect her, to keep her safe from whatever it was that was plaguing her. He rubbed her arm with his hand. “Claire, _mo ghraidh,_ you’re shaking,” he murmured. “And you’re so cold. Can ye tell me what’s troubling ye?”

Her breath became shallower.

“It’s all right; you’re safe.” Jamie’s chest ached knowing how frightened she was. “What’s wrong, _mo chridhe?_ Are you frightened of the noise?”

“No,” Claire said. “It’s more than that.”

Her story was a strange one to him in many ways—she mentioned things he didn’t recognize, and that he knew he’d never see. Jeeps, Americans, Nazis… but he ultimately recognized what she was describing. It was a timeless and all-too-common tale. The enemy spotted her and her comrades, and opened fire on them, leaving poor Claire lying in a ditch, listening to her friends begging for their mothers as they died. She paused a few times as she told the story, her voice catching as she recounted the more horrible bit. But every time she struggled to find the words, Jamie nodded at her encouragingly and gave her hand a squeeze. “Breathe,” he urged her. “You’re fine.”

She did look a little better by the time she was done, but she was still very pale. She looked like she was about to be sick. Jamie waited a moment, making sure she wasn’t going to say more, then pulled her onto his lap almost on instinct. He remembered with great clarity the first time he comforted her in such a way, when she’d first arrived and mended his shoulder, and was thinking about Frank. He rocked back and forth with her slightly, trying to soothe her. “It’s all right, Claire,” he murmured. “You’ve fought your war, and ye dinna have to fight mine, too. I’ll take ye home right away, to Lallybroch. Jenny and Ian will keep ye company till I return." 

“ _No.”_ Claire spoke with a surprising amount of conviction. “No, no, I—I can’t.”

“I promised I’d keep ye safe.”

“I know, but I— I can’t, Jamie. I just can’t.”

"We can discuss this later, when you’re feeling well again.” Jamie kissed her forehead. “For now, just rest. I’ll walk ye back to the house as soon as ye can stand.”

Claire took in a breath, clearly wanting to argue. That was her stubbornness coming back—it always did, Jamie reflected. It was quite a relief. He smiled slightly as he felt her settle down against him, clearly enjoying being held. “You’re a brave wee thing, Sassenach,” he said. "But ye dinna have to be brave when you’re with me. I understand.”

She let out a sigh.

When her breathing was back to normal again, Jamie gave her one final kiss, then released her. “Come now,” he said, “let’s go fetch your wee basket, aye? There’s work that needs to be done.”


End file.
